CHAPTER III.

We come across a Character-Origin of the Names of Places-Guidebooks at fault-The 'Good Woman'-An old half-timbered Hostelrie-Roadside England-The Love of the Country-Boreham— A Fine Altar-tomb-The Ancient Craftsman and the Modern Workman-An Old English Farmstead-The Farm of the Future -Cottage Gardens-Witham-At the Sign of the White HartThe Kindness of Country People-How to discover Objects of Interest A Fruitless Expedition-' Ghosts not kept here.'

AT Chelmsford, the next town on our road, we elected to stay the night at the sign of the Saracen's Head. In the coffee-room of the inn there we made friends with another traveller, who from his conversation was evidently an antiquary, and truly he looked his part, dressed as he was like a gentleman of the old school, fifty years at least behind time in regard to the fashion of his clothes; evidently purposely so, for the quality was good although the cut seemed quaint to our unfamiliar eyes. Manifestly we had come upon an original character, no mere stage make-believe, and we rejoiced in the fact, for in these days of slavish uniformity, a genuine character is a great relief to the wearisome monotony of multitudes.

We always make it a point when on a journey, as far as may lie in our power, to make friends with those people chance may throw in our path. Many

NAMES OF PLACES.

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an interesting conversation and much odd out-ofthe-way information as to local legends, family histories, folk-lore, curious customs, and I know not what else besides, have we picked up by so doing. We found that even a plough-boy could tell us something that we did not know before, as to the habits of birds, the names of the less common wild flowers and plants, and other matters pertaining to the life of the hedges and fields, which were as familiar to him as they were fresh to us: the country lad is not of those who

Love not the flower they pluck and know it not,
And all their botany is but Latin names.

But I am digressing; to return to our antiquarian friend, we had a long and entertaining chat with him that evening about many things. During the course of the conversation he informed us that the road we had travelled from Brentwood was not only the old coaching highway to Colchester, but that it followed also the exact line of the ancient Roman street thither. Then we had a long discussion as to the origin of the names of the places we had passed through. It is always interesting to trace back the derivation of the names of country towns and villages, for frequently they have a real reason for their appellation, even sometimes helping to explain history or to hand down the exact spot where certain events took place, as for instance Slaughter Bridge in Cornwall where King Arthur fell mortally wounded. Thus the sleepy little town of Ingatestone, where we rested as we came along, is derived from Ing, a meadow, at-ye-stone; a Roman

mile stone having stood in a field at this spot. In like manner Margaretting, is from Margaret and Ing, that is St. Margaret's meadow, the ancient church there being dedicated to that saint. Widford, at which spot the road crosses the river Wid, manifestly explains itself, at least so I should have imagined; but for all that, one of the precious guidebooks I took with me deliberately states that it comes from the Wide ford over the river Can,' not by any means a single or the worst instance of inaccuracy I have discovered in these curious compilations, only unfortunately their mistakes as to facts are not always so readily to be discovered, for in this case we did not even come upon the Can at Widford. Some of the errors of omission and commission of the guide-book writers are both astonishing and amusing, as we shall see hereafter.

Though I believe there can be but little doubt that we were right as to the derivation of Widford, it is not wise to jump too readily at a conclusion in such matters, even when such seems self-evident. For upon a former journey, seeing an old map with the very ancient and little town of Alfriston in Sussex spelt thereon Aldfriston, and knowing that there was a short way off a younger though still very ancient village of Friston, we at once inferred that Alfriston was a name evolved from AldFriston, or Old Friston, the prefix we presumed being added to distinguish the place from the other Friston, and we should certainly have deemed our conclusion to be correct, had we not afterwards by mere chance, upon looking over some musty works

A FIFTEENTH-CENTURY HOSTEL.

39

of ancient date, discovered that Alfriston really derived its name from Alfred's ton (Alfred's town), King Alfred, according to history, having been at one time here, the Domesday Book as well confirming the fact in its spelling of the place.

Our antiquarian friend had also something to say as to the quaint inn-sign at Widford; this he told us is known by the name of the Good Woman. First it was called the Silent Woman, because having her head cut off the poor woman naturally could not speak; it would seem that in times past the Essex people did not esteem it a virtue for their wives to do much talking, and so as this woman was perforce silent she became to them the Good Woman, all of which, as our friend stated, was as true as most traditions are, and I dare say he was right.

was,

We did not find much of interest in Chelmsford, which town appeared to us more prosperous than picturesque; alas! that these terms should nowadays never seem synonymous! In rambling about the place we did however come upon one oldtime building that delighted us an ancient inn it a half-timbered structure of the fifteenth century, Ye Old Cross Keys' as its sign-board informed us. A clean and neat little hostel with bright flowers in its windows, somewhat modernised the rest of the old house, but fortunately its quaint and cosy look had not been altogether improved away. It was truly a picture in the prosaic street, and redeemed it from being wholly common-place. We could not resist the temptation to make a sketch of this ancient bit of architecture, even

though by so doing we attracted around us a small crowd of inquisitive little boys, besides one curious specimen of a worthy and doubtless useful citizen, who could not understand why we should waste our time sketching that insignificant old place' when there was a big town hall much better worth drawing, built all of stone (or at least the front), a handsome building that any town might be proud of,' and which, he said, cost I forget how many thousand pounds. He reminded us forcibly of a certain American gentleman who courteously showed us over his native 'city,' and when calling our attention to the various fine buildings therein was careful to inform us how many dollars each one cost, the fineness of the structure appearing in his estimation to greatly, if not wholly, depend upon the number of dollars expended upon it.

How mean that charming unpretentious bit of past-time building made the featureless modern houses that compose the rest of the street appear, with all their pretentiousness, their tedious sameness of outline, and want of architectural purpose.

6

Leaving Chelmsford, we observed to the right of us, as we drove out of the town, an old pump near to a disused graveyard, with the notice This Pump is closed by order of the Sanitary Authorities,' which action appeared to us a very wise exercise of power on their part, though why, if it was not considered safe to use, the pump was not altogether removed puzzled us. It would be well if all rural sanitary authorities were as regardful of the welfare of the people. At one village, when on a previous